Well, DH had to work today. I feel the family is so disjointed when he has to work on the weekends. Today was additionally harried in that my almost 2 year old has been waking at 5am every morning for so long that I can barely function. DH leaves the house about 28 seconds before my youngest starts stirring and then immediately belting out the tears. It's almost as if it's choreographed. Every morning it's the same thing. I scoop him quickly from his bed so as not to wake my oder son. I have dreamy thoughts of snuggling with my young son in my bed as we both drift off to sleep for a couple more hours. EVERY morning I find myself getting more and more cranky as this plan never works. Somehow, in my own self deprecating disturbing way, I blame myself that he's up so early and that I must be a bad mother. My crankyness and raised voice do not help my case any. Don't ask me how I link the two but somehow I make that head trip during PMS each month. Some Visas should never be issued and I wish the governing party of PMS would stop being so generous with theirs.
The fact that it was raining cats and dogs this morning accompanied by phenomenal thunder made me;
a. not want to get out of bed
b. tell my older son that I'd take him to the movie Ratatouille.
I'm sure you aren't surprised to know that 2 hours later the sun had no cloud competition and her rays washed all over the city. Lovingly & thankfully, we met my folks for breakfast and they immediately commiserated and helped me divide and conquer with these two "curious" yet lovable little boy souls of mine.
How do you love two boys so much and feel so much strife in parenting them all at the same time. Two hot emotions that are such different ends of the spectrum. I constantly feel like I want to be "THERE" for them and yet there are so many details that have to get done. Afterall, I'm just one person . . . . who ends up doing an awful lot. How do I do less chores and still have good credit with my kids AND the bank? I'm not talking about keeping a clean kitchen. These are real life chores that must be tended to. So often I imagine playing ring around the rosie with my boys and having carefree times with them. I always find my very next emotion is devastation in that my oldest is starting kindergarten in the fall and his "at home Mommy time" is OVER. I always thought I'd be home with the kids the first 5 years of each of their lives and I feel like I've failed as a Mother because I haven't held to that. Our family needs the double income. Part of me would have died if I left the workforce for 5+ years. However, I feel that sacrificing ME has been a sacrafice that they will feel forever.
There is a family member on my husbands side that keeps a flickr account. They always make me yearn for the ability to give my children the carefree CHILDhood that this extended family is giving to their daughter. Trust me, on a single income, teacher salary they don't have millions in the bank. We aren't striving for that either. However, the choices that they have made are choices speak to their very strong sense of self. Their daughter is learning about life IN life. Getting dirty in Mother nature, exploring through a pumpkin patch or in a fantasy world of pillows and blankets. The images never have a "c'mon, we've got to get going" flavor. Instead, there is a consistent feeling of exploration and wonderment. What else could a parent ask for for their childrens growing up years? The fact that this extended family hasn't embraced our family only makes this wound sting more.
Motherhood to me was always a feeling of "filling". I'm so scared that I've created a void in them. I'm fearful that they don't feel strong in the who of who they are. I'm scared I don't have time to "fix" it. At 5 and 2 I can't tell you how close to 18 they feel. This pressure I put on myself is deafening, suffocating and yet so natural. How have I existed this way for 40 years. I'm at a cross roads and I hate that I feel like I must choose. I can't choose between me and them. They will always win. I just wish I felt stronger and more prepared as an adult to handle and help shape them into the self assured boys and men I strive for them to want to be. I'm terrified of failing. How do I BE the person, mother and wife that I've envisioned. How do I know when I get there? Is it ever too late? Does PMS exaggerate these emotions or help me to remember not to let them slide under the radar...my heart aches for my boys, for me... yet I yearn for a progress report from some all telling, unknown source to inform me that I'm on the right path no matter how my heart hurts along the way.